Well halló!
I am writing this from the town of Mülheim an der Ruhr in Germany. I made an impromptu decision last week to go see Taylor Swift perform in Gelsenkirchen on July 17, which is … tomorrow! Yes, I am an unapologetic Swiftie—you may not know that about me, and in fact I barely knew it about myself until a couple of years ago. Before that Taylor was barely a blip on my radar—I associated her with country music, of which I am not a fan, and also boppy pop, which I can get on board with on occasion, but which is really not a staple in my listening diet. Then in 2020 or thereabouts I read an article on the RÚV (Icelandic National Broadcaster) website gushing about her album Folklore, and since I tend to take RÚV seriously I gave it a listen one evening while out walking the dog. I was hooked, and subsequently listened to her backlist. I primarily love the eras from Folklore onward, but what shines through her full body of work is her brilliant songwriting. As someone who swoons over good writing in any form, I was completely drawn in by her artistry as a lyricist. Nowadays I’m all on board with the Easter eggs and totally agree with the rest of the Swifties about her being a mastermind.
Anyway, this is not meant to be an exposé on my appreciation for Taylor Swift but rather AN APOLOGY since, because of my impromptu decision, I was only able to put out one post on this site last week, and there was no Little Book of Icelandic post for paid subscribers. Sorry!
(Though I do allow for the fact that you may not have noticed)
I did, however, manage to put up a rare post on my other Substack, which you might wish to peruse if you haven’t done so already.
I know I know, you came here for Iceland content
And I’ve got it!
Something that caught my attention two nights ago as I was passing through Keflavík airport.
Background: It used to be that Icelanders were absolutely thrilled to meet other Icelanders when they were outside of Iceland. People they wouldn’t even give the time of day if they met them walking down Laugavegur1 would automatically be their best friends if they met them in, say, London—or, really, anywhere outside of Iceland. It seemed like there was both strength and comfort in that kinship when they/we were in a crowd of “others”, like a warm little bubble we could crawl inside. I think I can confidently say that any Icelander would happily go out of their way and comfort zone to help out a fellow countryman or -woman on foreign soil—something they might not automatically do at home.
But what caught my attention two nights ago at the airport was a recognition of something I have sensed for a while now, but never quite articulated.
It is this: that same sense of kinship that we used to experience outside of Iceland, we now experience inside of Iceland, especially in places where we Icelanders are outnumbered by tourists. These tend to be the places where everyone is speaking English, even the Icelanders, because more and more English is the default language in Iceland. In fact, three days ago I was in a shop and I had two sets of conversations in English with a woman working there before we realized that we were both Icelandic, yet we were speaking in English because we both assumed the other was not an Icelander.
So now there is that same kind of recognition of our common heritage and language and tribe that used to only happen in other countries, but we’re experiencing it right at home because, well, we’re outnumbered.
And that struck me as kind of … wild.
I wrote about that sense of being a tribe, plus many other quirks and curiosities belonging to the Icelanders, in this book—check it out!
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main shopping street in Reykjavík
Wild, tinged with sadness. I wish I had stronger connectivity with my Icelandic friends and cousins by speaking Icelandic as fluently as they speak my English. It won’t happen in my lifetime, but I can dream.
Hi Alda,
Reading this worries me, I must admit. For the past few years, I’ve been learning Icelandic because I think it’s unique, has a fascinating history, and, well, it’s really fun to speak! I enjoy using it when I visit Iceland because I think the locals appreciate it, even if I mangle it at times! I’m worried because I don’t want the Icelandic culture to submit (for lack of a better word) to the forces of tourism. I understand there is now an American “themed” grocery store outside of Reykjavik called Kostur. They sell name brands and items popular in the U.S. Who in the world thought that was a good idea? I love Iceland because I can get away from Burger King and Walmart, etc. and now there’s a grocery store dedicated to the selling the same (garbage) food items I can get stateside? It makes me heartsick :(